The One in Distress
by UnicornConfetti
Summary: As everyone gathers to prepare for the school's open house, Damien reflects on the love that he lost and finds hope with the help of his goddess. One shot.


**A short story dedicated to my favorite HON character, Damien. No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

"I can't entertain in squalor," Damien sighed, looking out beyond the field house gate.

Everyone turned to stare at him like he'd just disavowed all knowledge of Lady Gaga's most recent fashion trend.

"It means filth," Shaunee explained.

At least someone was paying attention. Damien turned to Shaunee with a small grin playing on his lips. "How did you get to be so smart all of a sudden?" he asked.

Damien already knew the answer—without Erin's influence, Shaunee was coming out of her twin shell and proving to be quite intelligent. "What do you mean 'all of a sudden'?" Shaunee smirked. "I've always been exceedingly astute. You just never paid attention."

"_Exceedingly_?" Zoey chimed in.

"_Astute_?" Stevie Rae added in the same surprised tone.

"It means—"

"—very smart," Zoey said, cutting off Shaunee's words, who looked about ready to dive into some elaborate conversation about how proud she was of her new found individualism. "That one I know."

"Actually, according to the dictionary, it means 'having or showing an ability to accurately assess situations or people, and turn this to one's advantage'. If we're getting technical about it," Damien countered.

"All hail Queen Damien of the nerd herd, supreme ruler of long-winded explanations and useless information," Aphrodite taunted. Beside her, Darius pursed his lips.

"Why don't you just pipe down?" Stevie Rae growled. "No one's asking for your input."

Aphrodite's face hardened. "Thank you for pointing out the obvious, bumpkin. Now, why don't you and birdboy run along, and leave the talking to the grownups?"

"I don't see no grownups," Stevie Rae snapped, her hands braced on her hips. "I see a spoiled little rich hag who didn't—"

"Enough!" Zoey's voice rang clear throughout the field house like a true High Priestess, subsequently ending the start of an argument. "We have some serious cleanup to do around here. Damien's right—we can't invite humans into the school when it looks like it was ravaged by a tornado." She paused to look at each of them in turn, her eyes coming to rest on Stark, who reached out and took her hand. "You've all got your assignments, so get going."

"You got it, Z." Stevie Rae tossed a sour look to Aphrodite before taking off toward the stables with Rephaim.

"Of course, priest—"

"Oh, just go already!" barked Aphrodite, interrupting Damien's answer just before she and Darius marched out of sight.

"Don't pay any attention to her," Shaunee smiled, offering him a comforting nudge to the shoulder. "She's just bent out of shape because Z's insisting on going to see Aphrodite's father later tonight."

Damien's brow shot up. "Sometimes, I think Z's a glutton for punishment," he laughed. "Anyway, I'll see you later, okay?"

Shaunee nodded and followed after Zoey, while Stark went to help Kalona with the east wall. That was still taking some getting used to—the immortal they'd spent so much time fighting was now their greatest ally against darkness. Damien still didn't trust him, though.

Thoughts of Kalona swirled in his head as Damien made his way down to the remnants of Dragon's funeral pyre. It was because of Kalona's resurrection that his beloved Jack was dead—sacrificed by Neferet in her quest for power. Tears stung his eyes, and Damien called forth his element to soothe away the bitter and heartbreaking memories.

Air rushed to his aide, encircling him with a warm evening breeze that tousled his brown hair and eased some of the mounting sorrow in his chest. Life had gone on without Jack, but there were moments—much like this one—when he was the only thought that plagued Damien's mind. Damien remembered Jack's smile, and the way his soft lips always parted at just the right angle, as if the awe of whatever he'd seen had touched his very soul. He remembered Jack's laughter and how even the smallest trickle of that laughter would set a fire in Damien's heart. He remembered the long talks, the cuddles, the extensive explanations of all things technological. And most of all, he remembered Jack's light and warmth, like his personal sliver of happiness in a world where everything had turned dark and rotten and evil. To Jack, everything had a silver lining. To Jack, the world wasn't dark; it was merely having a mid-life crisis, and just needed a little hot chocolate to simmer it down.

There never was a purer heart than Jack Twist, and he had suffered for it.

Without realizing where he had been walking during his attempt to drown out those memories, Damien found himself at the base of Nyx's statue—the Goddess smiling down at him in all her splendor. Perhaps she had led him here; the air around him thrummed with affirmation as soon as he'd thought the words. "Why?" Damien asked quietly.

Whether it was a question to himself or the Goddess, Damien wasn't sure. Either way, the words had left his lips and Nyx was sure to have heard. "Why?" he repeated, this time with a little more courage backing his voice, as though Nyx herself encouraged him to speak. "Why did it have to be Jack?"

Jack and his affinity for the modern world and technology, those cameras and gadgets and his never ending love; Jack, who had wept so violently over a dog, and ruined a perfectly decent pair of shoes chasing after the creature; Jack, being his best friend, his boyfriend, and the one who always made the world just a little brighter. Why had he been taken?

Damien dropped to his knees before Nyx and began to sob like the night of Jack's funeral when no one was around to witness the breakdown, and like that night his element swooped in to help with the shakiness.

_Things are never as bad as they seem, my fledgling_. The gentle voice of the Goddess running through his mind disrupted Damien's muddled thoughts, and for a moment he wasn't sure if she'd said anything at all, or if it was just his overactive imagination. "What?"

"I said things are never as bad as they seem." This time, the far off voice sounded clearer, closer, and most definitely male. Damien turned to find Adam standing there—the reporter from a few days ago—fumbling with the camera in his hands. "Like, well, things could always be worse," he added in a muffled, timid voice.

Adam shuffled his feet along the grass as a cute blush rose in his cheeks; Damien blinked at him in surprise, although he found his embarrassment rather endearing. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I was just here to set up a few things for the open house," Adam replied hastily, and made a move to walk away.

"Wait!" Damien scrambled to his feet, whispering a small thank you to air and releasing the element before setting his sights firmly on Adam. "You just startled me. Don't go…"

The last two words seemed to just hang out there in space; Damien's cheeks suddenly felt unusually warm as well.

"You've been crying," Adam noticed, and stepped to Damien's side with a look of concern. Gingerly, he placed the expensive-looking equipment down and raised a hesitant hand to Damien's cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.

Adam was tender and smart, and seriously cute on a geeky George Clooney level. He had dark eyes and handsome features that drew Damien in like Aphrodite to an open-ended line of credit. "I—yes, uh…just a little," he murmured. Damien's pain quickly vanished, replaced by something he couldn't quite describe as he looked into Adam's eyes. Yes, he definitely felt warmer than normal.

"I don't know much about your Goddess," Adam said, leaving his hand cupping Damien's cheek. Damien felt Adam's pulse beat against his skin, strong and seductive. "But I don't think she'd want you crying in her presence." Adam smiled then, and Damien noticed how his soft lips parted at just the right angle…

"So is that a yes or a no?" Adam mumbled almost shyly, though Damien hadn't really heard his initial question—_if_ he'd asked one. He was still focused on those lips.

"Pardon?" Damien asked apologetically.

Adam barely missed a beat as he suggested, "How about you buy me a cup of coffee and you can tell me what's got you so upset?"

Damien giggled lightly. "Buy _you_ a cup of coffee? Shouldn't it be the other way around? I am, after all, the one in distress here."

"That depends on if you're considering this a date or not," Adam chuckled nervously—the sound like music to Damien's ears. "If that's the case then I'll insist on buying you dinner instead, and regaling you with the luminous history of television production…plus or minus the pros of digital pixilation."

Adam was rambling now; Damien loved it.

"Honey, that's the case," Damien answered with a little more bounce in his step, his lips twitching in the corners as he fought back an even wider grin and took the reporter's hand. Were they flirting? It certainly felt like flirting.

"Thank your Goddess for that. I'm starving," Adam gushed, using his free hand to scoop up the camera.

And Damien did just that, sending up a silent prayer of thanks to Nyx as the two set off back toward the school, hand in hand. The Goddess had a convenient way of showing up right at the most opportune moment.


End file.
